


keep your heart open for me

by librababy



Category: BL - Fandom, Thai BL - Fandom, เพราะเราคู่กัน | 2gether: The Series (TV)
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Emotional Tension, haha brightwin pls be real, im so whipped for these boys i cant take it, lots of tension!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/librababy/pseuds/librababy
Summary: When the two boys stepped into the light, Bright couldn’t help but notice the taller one. He had on a black NASA shirt and his hair was all sorts of disheveled.Must have been a pretty intense makeout session, he thought.Their drunken stupor must have been the first thing that got his attention, but it was the guy's smile that kept him staring. He was smiling ear to ear, his eyes almost turning into two slits on his face. Giggling as they went back inside the bar. He looked so happy, it almost hurt.Cute.He got too distracted that he almost forgot the smoke in his lungs. A coughing fit ensued.Shit, he muttered after recovering. He must have had more drinks than he thought.
Relationships: Bright Vachirawit Chivaaree & Win Metawin Opas-iamkajorn
Comments: 35
Kudos: 95





	1. friends to the rescue

He wasn’t always like this.

If one were to ask his friends to describe him, they’d all say the same thing: that he’s the biggest goofball, the one who cracks the stupidest jokes, the one with the loudest laugh, the one who won’t _ever_ shut up.

Definitely not this: moping, disheartened, and quiet. Maybe even heartbroken, but even his friends weren’t quite sure.

It’s day nine of Win-Staying-In, the longest he’s ever spent inside his apartment by choice. For someone who used to come up with any reason just to go out, his friends were deeply concerned.

Khaotung hesitates for a moment before extending his closed fist to knock on Win’s door. Pluem clears his throat beside him.

“You sure about this?”

“No,” Khaotung knocks twice. “But we should at least try to let him open up.”

“Try knocking louder, then?”

“I meant emotionally, dumbass.”

If it weren’t for the bag of liquor Pluem was holding, Khaotung would’ve already punched him. Jokingly, of course, but not without inflicting minimal pain. Pluem can be a little slow, and they all teased him endlessly for it, but that’s just how things work in their group.

They both heard shuffling noises from the other side of the door.

“You heard it too, right?”

Khaotung nods. “I’ll knock a—.”

To their surprise, the door swings open, revealing a very distraught Win Metawin.

The first thought that came into Khaotung’s mind was _holy shit, it’s worse than I thought_.

And as for Pluem, he was already regretting not buying more liquor.


	2. a good idea?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khaotung and Pluem checks in on Win, who hasn't gotten out of his apartment for 9 days. 
> 
> Heartbreak really makes you do things that are out of character, doesn't it?

“So…” Khaotung starts, uncertain and careful. “How are you —,”

“Look like shit, Win.” Pluem says in disbelief. 

It’s an irony, really, how slow he can be when it comes to reading social cues and understanding things, but also be incredibly sharp-tongued mostly in the worst moments. Khaotung throws a pillow at him, while Win looks at him for a split-second and scoffs with a — wait, was that a smile?

Khaotung and Pluem took this as a sign to keep prodding. Khaotung stands up from the couch and walks to the dining table where Pluem set the bottles of alcohol.

“Seriously, bro. It’s been almost two weeks. This is the longest you’ve been like… _this_.” He’s looking for a bottle opener but was too thirsty to open the set of drawers so he uses his teeth instead. 

“It’s 10 in the morning.” Win’s voice was deep and void of the usual cheerfulness. He was glaring at the cold bottle of beer in Khaotung’s hand.

He perks up at this. “Oh, you still have a sense of time, thank god!”

Win shakes his head and drops himself back onto the bed. “I’m just tired. I just need to unwind for a bit.”

“Unwind my ass,” Khaotung plops back on the sofa, and makes himself comfy by putting his legs on the coffee table in front. Pluem was already sitting next to Win’s study table, browsing his phone. “I know the last semester was hard as shit, but you’re practically a genius so don’t you dare say this is because of acads.”

“I didn’t even mention anything about acads." He says defensively.

“Yeah, but I know you will. I’m pre-empting you.”

“Smart,” Win replies quietly. “What about the drinks?”

Pluem looks up from his phone and smiles. “Ah, that would be to help you op—,”

Khaotung cuts him off before he could even finish. “To help you unwind!”

Another glare directed at Pluem. “Yeah, to help you unwind!” He says, almost laughing at Khaotung’s smooth save.

Win grunts. He remembers the last time they all went out together — him, Khaotung, Pluem, and JJ — and how no one went home sober. In fact, no one went home at all. Well, except Win.

As far as he remembers, and he doesn’t even really remember much, the three ended up sleeping at the parking lot. And him? Well.

It was supposed to be a celebration for their final exams. For finishing their final exams, that is. They weren’t too confident about their results — they just wanted to let loose after weeks of pulling all-nighters. Except for Win, because he’s annoyingly smart so he could just be carefree and still get high marks. He was still his usual self at that point. Maybe even happier than usual. 

His friends took notice, of course. He was always on his phone, eating lunch or dinner somewhere else, and most of all — unavailable on weekends. He used to be _always_ available, especially on weekends. 

They didn’t take this against him, though. They knew he was seeing someone, and they figured he’d tell them if he was ready, but weeks just passed and he just became more distant. And after their night out, it was like the personality of Win Metawin had been flipped.

He went home alone that night.

“Wait, aren’t you going home for the sembreak?” Pluem asked.

“Nah, no one’s home.” Win has his eyes closed now, his hands behind his head. 

Pluem was visibly confused. “How come?”

“They went to Europe,” Win said a matter-of-factly.

This got Pluem’s attention. “And they didn’t book you a ticket?” 

“They did.” 

Khaotung was equally confused now, too. He knew Win didn’t talk much about his parents — or his family, for that matter — because they like to tease him about how rich he is. 

“I forgot about the trip.” Win said from the bed. “They left two days ago.”

The two friends couldn’t believe what they just heard. Pluem was half-shocked and half-laughing, while Khaotung was just plainly in disbelief. “Let me get this straight,” he walked towards Win. “You _forgot_ about a trip to Europe.”

“Yup.”

“A trip to _Europe.”_ He was glaring at him now. 

_“_ Yup.”

“Even though you’re just here moping around in your apartment?”

“Yup.”

“Jesus Christ, Win Metawin,” he threw his arms up in frustration. “I really hope one day I wake up as you so I could make the most of my life and the perks that come with it.”

“There’s not much.”

“Not much what?”

“Perks.”

Pluem was laughing by himself. “What do you call a family trip to Europe then?”

“Unnecessary international travel?”

“You only say that because you’ve practically been to every continent.” Pluem quips.

Win sits up and points at Pluem. “Wrong. I haven’t been to Antarctica.”

“Looks at this sly motherfucker lowkey flexing!” Khaotung grabs one of the pillows on the bed and throws it at Win’s face, but he was quick to cover his face.

“You can easily ask that as a graduation gift, though.” Pluem made a point. Win is anything but spoiled, and he has always been a good student, so his parents reward him accordingly. When he called them two days ago to say he has to stay behind and work on his thesis, they just thought he was being diligent as always.

Not nursing a broken heart and listening to sad songs on loop in his apartment. Definitely not thinking about how a guy broke his heart for the first time, too.

Win sighed. 

“So what’s your plan for the break?” Khaotung asked. 

“Nothing?” 

Silence from the two. They just looked at each other in disbelief.

“Maybe rot away here in the apartment until the building owner finds me, decomposed and all?”

More silence.

“Take to a vow of silence and become a monk?”

“You wouldn’t last a minute in there.”

Win shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get a job.”

Pluem spit it out before he could stop himself. “Damn, I feel sorry for your boss already. Imagine having an employee who can buy you and everything you own?”

“Fuck you, Pluem,” Win spat back, shaking his head. “I already submitted my applications. It’s only for the break, anyway. At least I’ll have shit to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Khaotung agreed. “I think that’s a good idea.”

_But is it really?_


	3. the boy in the NASA shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His mind was swarmed by haunting questions about what he just did, but he only kept thinking about that boy. With the NASA shirt._
> 
> {Bright's POV}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> throwback chapter! this was when bright saw win for the first time AAAHHHH
> 
> always interested to know what you think!!
> 
> 05/21: i made edits, sorry omg

Just two weeks to go.

After years of performing in small pubs and stinky venues with faulty AC units and rude bar owners, Bright knew he deserves this taste of success. GMT decided to sign him on the spot after watching his gig at a local bar, and his life hasn't been the same since. He was already making quite the buzz before getting signed, and GMT gave his career the boost that thrusted him into the limelight.

And now with only two weeks left before he goes on tour, his friends conviced him to make the most of the little normalcy left in his life. For them, this meant going to a bar and drinking just like the old times. 

_Bottoms Up_ was the obvious choice. It's a local bar frequented by university students nearby, best known for their mixed drinks that taste like your typical juice on a Sunday morning, but will have your world spinning before you know it. It's lowkey enough for Bright to not worry about getting mobbed. 

They're already a few drinks in but his nerves were still getting to him. Despite his cool demeanor that's often mistaken as being cold, he's actually anxious as hell. Three months of non-stop performance in different countries with artists he only used to dream of meeting? Still feels surreal even for him. 

It’s been so long since he last smoked, but he felt like he really needed one tonight. He excused himself from Mike and Gun, and made his way to the back of the bar. 

It was chilly outside. The loud music was subdued now, and to be honest he was already a little bit tipsy, but he has always been able to keep alcohol down better than his two friends. He tapped the pack against his palm unit a stick fell out, and almost as if it’s a muscle memory, he put it between his lips, covered the tip with his palm and then ignited the lighter.

The first inhale sent a warm tingle down his body. It felt good. _So good_ , he thought. He put the lighter on his back pocket and took notice of the surroundings. 

At his right, a dumpster that was too full and too foul for his liking. At his left, silhouette of two people — _wait, are they_ …? 

_Fuck_ , he muttered after taking a deep hit. Really? Making out back here? How unbelievably cliche, how irritating, how — how he misses it, too.

He reminded himself it was just the alcohol talking. He shakes his head and decided to focus his attention to the wall in front of him. There was nothing interesting about it — maybe except if you’re into graffitied unfinished cement — but he figured it was better than watching two strangers make out.

Bright knew he’d barely have time by himself in the following months, so he took his time here — slow, long drags of warm nicotine to calm his nerves. He has always wanted this, though. To share his music to the world. Being in the limelight still makes him uneasy at times, but that’s just one of the many things he has to deal with as an artist. And a rising one at that.

His thoughts were interrupted by a giggle from his left. He felt a spark of irritation. It was the couple who were making out. And turns out they were both boys.

 _Huh_ , he scoffed to himself. 

It was nothing new to him. He's always been an ally and he even goes as far as celebrating it during Pride events. Okay, his friend Mike would often drag him there to help look for this mystery girl he likes, but it wasn’t like he didn’t support the cause.

When the two boys stepped into the light, he couldn’t help but notice the taller one. He had on a black NASA shirt and his hair was all sorts of disheveled. _Must have been a pretty intense makeout session_ , he thought. 

Their drunken stupor must have been the first thing that got his attention, but it was the guy's smile that kept him staring. He was smiling ear to ear, his eyes almost turning into two slits on his face. Giggling as they went back inside the bar. He looked so happy, it almost hurt.

_Cute._

He got too distracted that he almost forgot the smoke in his lungs. A coughing fit ensued. Shit, he muttered after recovering. He must have had more drinks than he thought.

He went back inside not too long after, and looked for his friends. Mike was chilling at the cocktail table, furiously scrolling through his phone. Bright placed the cigarette pack and lighter on the table a little too hard, snapping Mike out of his task at hand.

“Still looking for her?” Bright raised an eyebrow at his friend. He’s known Mike since grade school, and it was his first time seeing him like this. Whipped as hell. “There are at least five girls ogling at you right now, man.”

Mike only shook his head with a smile, as if telling Bright: _you have no idea_. “I’m loyal, you see.”

Bright let out a chuckle. “You don’t even know her name.”

Mike leaned in so that his face was closer to Bright’s. Maybe a little bit too close for the latter’s liking. “That’s how you know I’m serious.”

Bright grabbed a bottle and took a swig after muttering a low, “Whatever.”

“Gun went home already, by the way. He was with a girl.”

“Oh?” Bright wasn’t even surprised. Among the three of them, Gun was the playboy. But a responsible one at that, as he would often defend himself. 

Mike went back to scrolling his phone, probably looking at IG photos tagged under the Pride campaign. Bright was left with himself again, but now with a bottle in hand and an unnerving feeling he couldn’t shake off his chest.

He looked around the area, quite unsure of what exactly he was looking for — _or whom_ — but his eyes scanned the bar thoroughly. And then he saw him.

Standing frozen at the corner, two bottles in hand, his eyes fixated on the two people just a few meters away. It was the guy he was with earlier at the back, but this time he was kissing a girl.

 _Motherfucker_ , Bright thought. He looked back at the guy with the NASA shirt.

The look of devastation on his face couldn’t be any clearer. 

Bright felt a strong pang in his chest. Almost a sting. _What the hell?_

Before he could even think, he was already making his way to the couple. He wasn’t thinking. He was just mad.

He shoved the guy away from the girl, and it took just one hit for the guy fell to the floor with a bleeding nose. 

The people nearby noticed the commotion and scattered away, not wanting to be part of the brawl but still interested enough to see what more would ensue — except that there won’t be any. Mike rushed to Bright and dragged him away. He knew that it would only take one scandal for his tour to be cancelled, and everything else after that.

* * *

“What the fuck, Bright?” Mike hurriedly started the ignition. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

Bright was so out of it. There was blood on his knuckles, but he wasn’t quite sure if it was his or the guy he just suckerpunched onto the floor. 

And for what?

_For whom?_

And why?

When did he start being the patron saint of the damned? Since when did he care about other people’s business? He's never even thrown a punch before.

His mind was swarmed by haunting questions about what he just did, but he only kept thinking about that boy. With the NASA shirt.

He only saw him smiling once, yet he was ready to hurt anyone who’d dare break his heart like that.


	4. win metawin, social media manager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Win was being honest with himself — which, frankly, isn't something he's fond of doing lately — he didn't really need this job. Or any job for that matter. 
> 
> But maybe heartbreak can really make you do surprising things. 
> 
> And maybe, this job can be more of a redirection rather than a distraction.

It's Day 10 of his self-imposed self-isolation. Khaotung and Pluem left a few hours ago, but not without leaving empty bottles of alcohol and an unbelievably messy apartment in their wake. Win was dragging his feet while trying to tidy up when his laptop let out a _ding_ sound. At first he thought it would be from the school, but quickly dismissed the idea since he was sure he had submitted and paid everything.

He went over to his desk and opened his Mail app.

Desparation didn't suit Win at all. And yet, he wanted so badly to be distracted from his own thoughts and the constant reminder of his heartbreak that he just randomly applied to the job listings he saw online. And today, he got his first response.

> RE: Social Media Manager Application

_Click._

> Hi Mr. Metawin,
> 
> Thank you for sending in your application! We'd like to invite you for an interview today at 4:30 PM in our office building at 50 GMM Grammy PLACE, Sukhumvit 21 Rd. (Asoke). We apologize for the short notice but we hope you could make it!
> 
> Just ask for Miss Jek and they'll assist you.
> 
> Thanks!

His eyes darted to the clock. It's 3:30 PM. 

* * *

The lobby was crowded when he got to the building. This wasn't surprising, even to him, as he knew about how fans would often gather there to wait for their idols to come in or come out. His tall frame made him literally stand out from the crowd. And as he squeezed his way to the front desk, he wished for two things: one, that this job will give him the distraction he needs and two, that the artist won't be such a pain in the ass.

"Hi," he said meekly to the guard. "I'm here to see Miss Jek."

The guard looked up from his logbook. "They're still holding auditions?"

"What?"

"Auditions," the guard repeated. "You're auditioning for a role?"

Win was visibly confused. "Uh... I'm applying for a job."

"Oh." The guard nodded. "Give me a minute."

Win rocked back and forth while waiting. Behind him, the crowd was buzzing with hushed conversation and laughter. He wondered how long they'd usually have to wait before they call it a day. He couldn't imagine himself in their position, but not that he was planning to camp out for anyone ever.

"Here," the guard handed him an access card. "30th floor. Better hurry, they'll flock to the elevators soon."

He thanked the guard and made his way inside. True enough, the crowd started squealing just as he entered the elevator. 

"Please hold!" 

Win hurriedly pressed the Open button until the person who asked him to showed up. A lady with multiple shirts draped over her arm smiles at him, looking apologetic. "Sorry, can you wait for a bit?"

 _No,_ Win thought to himself. _I'm almost late to my interview._

But his parents didn't raise him to be like that so he flashed that sweet smile of his and nodded. "Sure."

The lady turns to the entrance and waves to another person to hurry up. "Let's go, let's go!"

"Sorry, got caught up," he heard a guy say. 

* * *

_No way._

_No fucking way._

Bright stood frozen in front of the elevator, as if he's just been struck by lightning. Oh wait, that's exactly how he felt: like getting struck by a thunderbolt, sending an earth-shattering shock from his head down to the balls of his feet.

_Is it really him?_

_What the fuck._

"Let's take the next one," he said coldly, pressing the Close button multiple times. Nevermind the fans that are about to mob him. Or the glare he was getting from his PA. Or the confused look from the guy inside.

His heart was racing. And in that short moment before the doors fully closed, he swore they locked eyes.

_Does he remember me?_

_I hope not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would love to hear your feedback on this?? aaaha pls 😗✌🏽


	5. must be gay panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Win finally meets Bright. Cue gay panic?

For the whole duration of the elevator ride going up, Win was trying to make sense of _what the hell_ just happened. He was being nice despite the probability of being late, and what did he get for that? An attitude from an arrogant artist who thinks so highly of himself, he wouldn't even share an elevator with just a somebody? _Fuck him_.

Win scoffed at the thought of having to work with someone like that guy.

He asked around for Miss Jek and was told to wait inside one of the offices. The walls were plastered with posters of their artists; some he's quite familiar with, but others? Not so much. It was already exactly 4:30 PM. His commute was hell, but he was used to it. After all, it was his choice to leave his car at his family's home. 

He let out a sigh of relief and relaxed a bit on the couch. 

If he was being honest with himself — which is something he’s been struggling to do lately — he didn’t need to do this. He’s Win Metawin, for fuck’s sake. To say that his family is well-off would be the understatement of the century. He could easily rebook a ticket to Europe and catch up with his family, or maybe even spend some _me-time_ somewhere else. Heal his heart with a stranger from a foreign country or wherever. But he didn't want to be _that_ cliche.

Despite having grown up pampered, he's kept a pretty lowkey profile. Only his closest friends know about his family background and he likes to keep it at that. Except that he recently had a terrible lapse in judgment with a certain guy who he thought — and hoped — was a special one.

Well, if special meant being convincingly romantic and sweet at first and then being a complete asshole after a few weeks, then yeah, sure, he was truly a special one.

"You're Win?" A blonde lady interrupted his thoughts and brought him right back to where he was. _Right, the interview._ "You okay there?"

Win realized he must've had his face scrunched up in disgust and frustration. _Game face on_. "Yeah, sorry! Hi! Miss Jek?" He extended his hand and went in for a firm handshake. A lesson his dad made sure he practiced. Every time.

"Just Jek is fine," she said, and was pleasantly surprised when Win towered over her. "Oh wow, you're tall!" 

Nothing he hasn't heard before. "Thank you?"

She flashed him a smile. She's pretty, probably in his late 20's, and she's giving off a whole _girl boss_ vibe. "Come with me." 

She led him a few doors down the office, and to the last one on the right. A corner office. _Nice_.

"Please, make yourself comfortable. We aren't super formal here, anyway." 

True enough, Win noticed that she had on a baggy shirt tucked in high-waisted jeans. If it weren't for her slightly intimidating demeanor and high heels, you would've thought she was an intern. Or one of those fans in the lobby.

"You can sit there on the couch," she gestures to the grey sofa against the wall, beside the glass window. It was starting to get golden outside. 

"I have a pretty full day today so I'll cut to the chase," Jek makes her way to the other end of the sofa and sat down. "We want you on the team."

Win almost jumped out of his seat. "Wait, just like that?" Not the best response to what anyone else would've wanted to hear, but he wasn't able to stop himself.

Jek couldn't help but laugh at his reaction. "Don't think that we chose you randomly, okay?" She said defensively. "We received hundreds of applications for this role but most of them were obivously fans who probably just want to get close to the artist. I mean, that's great and all, but we don't want that. Emotional attachment makes things messy."

_Was this a prank? Is this part of the interview? Why is this day so weird?_

"Your application was impressive," she continued. "From acads to extra-curricular, and you even freelance for brands, right?"

_Actually, that only happened twice. I was forced by my sister for the first one, and the brand recommended me to another. I received other inquiries back then, but it was difficult to juggle with acads so I turned them down._

"Yeah," Win confirmed. "I helped them make content and manage their socials." He knew he was good at it, thanks to his Digital Marketing subjects as a Marketing student.

"Awesome," Jek clasped her hands together. "We also checked your socials, of course, and we think you'd work well with our artist!"

_I don't even want to ask how they came to that conclusion but... okay, I guess?_

He realized he hasn't posted in so long too, so they must've seen the other side of him. Pre-heartbreak Win. The fun one. The one who overshares about the most random things in his daily life. Mostly whatever he's eating or wants to eat.

Win shifted in his seat. "Wait, so does this mean that I'm hired?"

Jek shrugged. "Well, unless you want to back out now and miss your chance to get paid to go on tour with the country's rising artists?"

For the first time in a long time, Win felt legitimately happy. This was exactly the distraction he needed. He thought this was going to be more of a desk job, maybe attend events every now and then, but this was better. _So much better._ Music and travel? Just imagining all the different cuisines he was about to try got him beaming with happiness.

"Thank you so much! I'll work hard."

"As you should!"

They signed the contract a little while after. The pay was higher than what was indicated in the job posting, and this made Win giddy. Sure, his allowance may be more than enough to cover his needs, but as someone whose life goal seems to be to try every resto and food stall in the world, an extra income would be great. He's always felt iffy about asking his parents for additional money especially if it doesn't concern acads, so this job was his chance to fulfill his foodie fantasies guilt-free. 

"Sorry I can't introduce you to the artist yet, but I think you're familiar with him? He's been making headlines lately but like, the good kind," she laughed to herself. "The big bosses really lucked out with him."

This piqued Win's interest. "Oh? What's his name?"

Jek pointed to the poster behind Win. "Bright Vachirawit."

Win craned his neck to see.

_You've got to be fucking kidding me._

Almost as if he was cursed by the Universe to not feel any semblance of peace for so long, all the happiness that had swelled up inside of him earlier was gone. Went down the drain. Nothing left but raging disbelief.

"He's doing fine on social, but we think can hype him up more especially that this will be his first t— you okay, Win?" 

He must've looked like he was crying for help. "I — uh, yeah. He... I think I saw him earlier?" 

She got excited. _If she only knew how that went down._ "That's great! I didn't know he's here already. Let me just call him up and I'll introdu —,"

The glass door behind her swung open and behold, Bright Vachirawit himself. With his tousled hair and bigass guitar slung on his shoulder, looking cool and also dangerously captivating. 

_Why am I palpitating? Am I freaking out?_

"Speak of the devil!" Jek was obviously too excited to see the look on Win's face. Pure panic. "We were just talking about you!"

Bright put down his guitar by the corner and combed his fingers through his hair, messing it up some more. 

_Fuck._ Win had to close his eyes for a moment, realizing what he had just gotten himself into.

"You were both talking about me?"

"Yeah, Win said he saw your earlier and..." Jek trailed off, looking at Win.

Bright directed his attention to the poor guy who looked like he was about to combust on the sofa. "And?"

"Nothing. I forgot; I was rushing to go up here, so..." A lame excuse, but he couldn't just stay silent. Not with Bright's piercing stare boring holes right through his very soul.

"Oh wait, sorry," Jek interjected. "Win, this is Bright. And Bright, Win. He'll be your personal social media manager."

Bright's eyebrows shot up, as if he didn't know anything about having a personal social media manager. "Oh?"

Despite his obvious confusion, he went over to Win and extended a hand. He was looking intensely at Win, who was having a hard time establishing eye contact. "Nice to meet you."

Aside from giving firm handshakes, Win's father also told him never to do it while sitting down. And yet at this moment, neither was possible. He felt glued to the sofa and he had no strength to muster for a decent handshake. He's always been confident and has never struggled in social situations, so this one was, to say the least, _shocking_.

Maybe it's because he hasn't had proper human interaction? He still can't wrap his head around getting accepted just like that? He's been having trouble sleeping? He hasn't had coffee yet? 

Or maybe it's just gay panic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i didn't get to update yesterday! :( anyway, yaa let me know what you think so far!! <3


	6. pack with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Win comes over to Bright's apartment to film a vlog episode. What could go wrong?

The two cups of tea he had last night was wildly unsuccessful at calming his nerves, so now he's sleep-deprived and extra agitated. Thankfully, the line at Starbucks was forgiving.

When Jek asked him about ideas on how to hype up Bright for his upcoming tour, Win suggested several vlog concepts. And as if the Universe was hell-bent on screwing with him, Jek chose the one that he thought was least likely to be approved. 

The concept? A 'pack with me' video, to be shot at Bright's apartment.

He literally pitched it as a joke, and now he has to deal with the consequences of his lack of foresight. It's 2 PM now, and he couldn't help but feel anxious. He was about to go to Bright's apartment, who's essentially still a stranger to him, and who probably hates him, and he has to film him for god knows how many hours. 

_What could go wrong?_

Well, he thought it'd be wise to one-up the Universe. Do a good deed now, so he'll be less likely to get fucked with later on, right? He looked for Jek's previous message where she forwarded Bright's number and address. He was instructed to text him when he's on his way. 

> _Hey Bright. Would you like some coffee?_

Wait, that sounds wrong.

> _Hey Bright, Jek gave me your number. This is Win. Remember? I'll be your —_

Definitely not.

> _I'm about to head over there. Do you want me to buy you coffee?_

What the hell? Again.

> _Hey Bright, it's Win. I'm at Starbucks, would you like anything? Heading over there in a bit._

And _sent._

Now that wasn't so hard, was it? 

* * *

Bright had to admit even to Jek that he wasn't that comfortable letting in someone he just met to his apartment. His safe space, his home, practically the only place he can totally enjoy his solitude without the pressure of being held to a higher standard because of his celebrity status. 

But then again, it was part of the job. 

_At least I don't have to clean up so much,_ he thought to himself. He's been practicing minimalism for a while now, which is to say that he didn't have much inside his apartment — except in the kitchen. His kitchenware would make one think that he's a professional chef or something, but it's a shame that it's been so long since had to use it. He felt one of those unmistakable hunger pangs, but he was too preoccupied by his thoughts to actually do anything about it.

The guy whose boyfriend he suckerpunched in a club is coming over. _What should he do? How should he act?_

And as if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

> _Hey Bright, it's Win. I'm at Starbucks, would you like anything? Heading over there in a bit._

Speak of the devil, indeed. He just looked at the message on his screen, quite puzzled with his surprising kindness. _Is he usually like this or is it because he's working for me?_

His phone vibrated again.

> _You can reply, you know._

A smile crept to Bright's otherwise stoic face. _Sure, why not?_

> _Nitro cold brew, please. Thanks._

He knew he needed the caffeine to get him focused. It would be hard to, with Win's pretty face just a few breaths away from him for the next few hours. Maybe the vlog concept wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

* * *

"You can relax, you know," Bright called to Win from the other side of the other side of the apartment. They decided to shoot the vlog in the living room instead of inside the bedroom. _It's too messy_ was his excuse.

"It's the coffee," Win said defensively. "Just let me know when you're ready."

"What did you get?"

_Why does he want to know?_

"Uhm, caramel macchiato." 

Bright smiled to himself quite confidently, knowing Win can't see his face, and that no one gets _that_ tense with caramel macchiato. Hell, there's barely any caffeine in there. But of course, he had to keep that to himself. Win was definitely nervous. For some reason, this excited him. 

"Gimme a minute."

"Sure," Win replied. He was setting up his camera on the kitchen counter, and he couldn't help but notice the bareness of the other parts of Bright's apartment, compared to the kitchen. It easily put his own kitchen to shame. For a foodie, it's quite ironic that he can't cook for shit. Either he'd take too long, or he'd be eating most of the ingredients before he can put them inside the pot. So intead, he eats out. _A lot_.

He glanced at the crouching boy in the living room. His back was turned on him, but he could see that he was laying out the clothes and items he has to pack on the floor. 

When he went home after being introduced to Bright, Win spent hours stalking him on social media. Not the best way to get to know the person you'll be working closely with for the next three months, but his curiousity got the best of him. And Bright's a celebrity, so he wasn't really invading his privacy. Instead, Win called it _researching and benchmarking_. He was his personal social media manager, after all.

His findings?

Bright currently has 1.2M followers, his average engagement rate is higher than the industry standard, and he's practically addicted to film photography. He's pretty good at it, too. And as much as Win didn't like to admit, Bright somehow looks so much more beautiful in film. He also discovered something that ended up bugging him. Or more like, _someone._

 _Nevy_. His girlfriend. His ex? He wasn't sure, but he knew that being in showbiz required some personal sacrifices — such as hiding your personal relationships. Fans can be extremely sensitive about this. As far as he knows, Bright hasn't confirmed nor denied the relationship. That's tricky. One wrong move and this could set off a PR storm — one that Win has to extinguish. He definitely wasn't looking forward to it.

"Okay, I'm ready!" Bright looked back at Win, suddently meeting his spaced out gaze. He hasn't realized he's been staring.

Win immediately looked away and focused his attention back to the camera in his hands. _Fuck._

Win drew a deep breath before walking over to where Bright was. The curtain was drawn and the afternoon light flooded the whole living room through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The light was divine and it felt like a sin not to take advantage. Bright was on his phone now, completely oblivious to Win approaching. He sneakily took a photo of the boy on the floor, silently begging that he was too engrossed in his phone to notice the shutter sound.

Except that he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! i know the pacing is a bit slow but i wanted to establish somet things first hehe as always, i'd love to hear your feedback!


	7. what do you want to eat?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Win successfuly filmed Bright's first vlog and he may or may not have just earned himself a pleasant reward for it. The Bright Special, anyone?

Bright didn't pack much, but it took them almost 4 hours to shoot the damn vlog.

It's not because of any technical difficulty, really. Win is good at what he does, and Bright has already acclimated to talking in front of the camera, but the air was too thick with unease for them to just easily breeze through this task.

As much as he tried to forget about it, Win kept thinking about how Bright reacted to him at the elevator. _It's either he's an arrogant asshole or it was simply a bad time,_ he thought. _He's being nice to me today, anyway._

And as for Bright, his internal struggle was getting stronger by the minute. Over the years, he has mastered the art of being unbothered. Of being able to act cool despite the emotional intensity of the situation. Except for when he saw Win inside the elevator. It was unexpected, sure, but he had been in more surprising situations before — and he had always pulled through flawlessly. Except that stupid elevator situation. Oh, and the _other one_.

Should he say sorry? Does he owe him an explanation for it? Does he even remember it?

 _Probably not_ , he resolved for his own peace of mind. He figured that if he were to bring it up, it would only lead to more questions, the very same questions that he's been trying to avoid himself. Not a day goes by that he doesn't think about what he did that fateful night, and _why_. And how the hell did he end up exactly in this situation:

with the boy whose smile had him punching a stranger, here inside his apartment, holding up a camera in front of him, completely unaware of the effect he has on him.

"So this is really all you're gonna bring?" Win propped himself up from the floor after shooting Bright's closing message. 

"Yeah, I don't mind repeating outfits. As I mentioned earlier like 5 times," He said a-matter-of-factly.

Win rolled his eyes. "I didn't hear."

"Distracted?" Bright asked teasingly.

 _Yes_. _You're too distracting._

"No," Win snapped. "Just hungry."

It's true. He couldn't even remember the last proper meal he had. And he wasn't really in the mood to eat before he came over. But now, he's feeling it. He's already mentally deciding where to eat when he was interrupted by Bright.

"What do you want to eat?" The artist also got up from the floor and placed his luggage at the corner.

Win cocked his head to the side, as if to say, _Is that a serious question?_

Bright gave him a warning look. "Offer expires in 5... 4..."

"Japanese food!" Win is a simple guy whose ultimate weakness is food. 

"Okay," Bright nodded approvingly. "Spaghetti carbonara it is." He passed by Win as he made his way to the kitchen, laughing to himself. Win just glared at the back of his neck, unamused.

Bright didn't talk much while he made himself busy in the kitchen. Win watched him from the couch, half-confused and half-relieved that he'd be eating sooner than expected. He thought that it looked like he was dancing in there — with each movement calculated, made graceful perhaps by muscle memory. It was obvious that this was _his thing_. As Win stole glances, he felt his eyes go heavy. He started to relax in the couch, pushing out intrusive thoughts in his mind.

Such as that Bright truly is a man of few words. And that maybe finally knew what makes Bright so appealing. It's in the air of mystery he exudes, compunded by his effortlessly disarming looks.

Such as the fact that Bright is dangerous in more ways than one.

And Win used to like playing with fire. Well, that was until he got so badly burnt. Now, he wouldn't dare getting close to something with the tiniest potential of hurting him. Moving on is a long and ardous process, and he knows he's barely making any progress, but at least he's trying. 

He started to relax on the couch. And before the knew it, he has already drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Thirty minutes into preparing his classic spaghetti carbonara, Bright realized it's been strangely quiet in the apartment. Well, except for the soft r&b music he played in the speakers. He glanced back, only to see Win dozing off on the couch, in a fetal position and hugging one throw pillow. 

_How can he be that big and be so cute at the same time?_

He set up two plates of the pasta on the table and contemplates whether to wake up the sleeping boy. He stared at him from a few meters away, feeling all kinds of warm and light. _Get a fucking grip, Bright._

It was already dark outside and he didn't even notice. He quietly walked over to the living room area to wake Win, except that he saw his film camera lying on the table. He turned to look at Win again.

_He looks so soft._

He hesitated for a bit, but picked up his camera anyway. He reeled back the lever with his thumb and peeked at the viewfinder, trying hard to ignore the hard thumping in his chest. _I'm not a creep,_ _I'm not a creep,_ _I'm not a creep._

Cue shutter sound.

He waited for Win to react if he heard the camera, but he realized he was too deep in his sleep that a subtle camera sound won't be enough to wake him. Bright placed the camera back on the table and bent his knees to level with Win.

"Hey," he gently tapped him on the shoulder. "I'm done cooking."

No response.

"Win?" He said louder this time.

Win moaned lowly and shifted in the sofa. He hugged the pillow tighter and brought his knees closer to his chest. 

_Stop being so fucking adorable, why don't you?_

Bright realized waking him up gently wouldn't work. So, option 2.

Rock music suddenly blasted into the whole room, effectively pulling Win from his deep sleep. He shot up straight in the sofa with a disgruntled and visibly shocked look on his face.

_The speakers investment was worth it._

"Was that really necessary?" Win was rubbing his eyes, still hugging that pillow. 

Bright was obivously amused at this. "Not my fault you sleep like a fucking log. Let's eat."

* * *

"Are you doing this to make up for what you did?"

Bright's small kitchen table meant that even though they were seated in front of each other, they were still pretty close. This also meant that Bright's attempt to hide his double-take upon hearing Win's abrupt question was useless.

He took a sip of water to wash down the pasta that seemed to have been lodged in his throat. "What did I do?"

_Did he possibly remember that night at the bar?_

"The elevator!" Win said through a mouthful of pasta. 

"Oh," Bright nodded, relieved."Yeah, sorry about that. Not my best moment."

"I almost turned down the job because of it." 

"Why didn't you?"

Now it was Win's turn to be do a double-take. He can feel Bright's stare from across the table. 

"Food!" He blurted out, immediately regretting how stupid that sounded.

Bright scrunched up his face in confusion. "What?"

"I want to try the Asian cuisines," He replied, more confidently now. "Your Asian tour, remember?"

"Oh, you're coming?"

"You... didn't know?"

 _No,_ Bright thought. _But a big thanks for Jek is in order._

"I probably forgot." He helped himself to his own cooking, trying to hide the smile creeping into his face.

* * *

"I'll do the dishes!" Win grabbed Bright's empty plate and brought it to the sink, along with his own. He may have grown up with several house helpers cleaning up after him, but he definitely knew his way around housework. 

"Please don't," Bright rushes to take back the plate from Win's hand but the younger boy was too fast. He already turned on the faucet.

"You already did the cooking. It's delicious, by the way," Win reasoned. "Surprisingly."

Bright squinted his eyes at him, feigning offence. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Win shrugged, still busy with the dishes. "Just thought you'd be the type to just order food or just eat out." He glanced back at Bright. "No offense."

"Huh," Bright replied, quite satisfied that he got to know even just a bit of what was going on in his mind. "None taken."

It's been so long since Bright got busy in the kitchen. And it's not just because of his hectic schedule, really. He used to cook every day, for two. It was something he used to look forward to, after a long day of peforming and anything else that helped him move forward in his career. But things changed, as they often do, and his kitchen has been bare since. But today was different, and he knows this, but he just doesn't want to dwell on it so much yet. 

"I followed you on IG, by the way." Win called out.

"And?" Bright was busy scrolling on his phone. He didn't even bother looking up at Win who was now done washing the dishes.

"Follow me back, asshole," The other replied sternly. Sometime in between coming here and eating dinner, he knew their dynamics have changed and that Bright wouldn't mind being called _asshole_ by no other than his personal social media manager. 

"Hmm," Bright finally looks at him from the couch. "I only follow people with more than 100 thousand fo—,"

"Don't fuck with me or I'll throw this kitchen towel at your face," Win threatened, holding up the towel he just used to dry his hands. _Okay, maybe I have to tone it down?_

Bright's lips curled up in a smile and gave in to the boy's demand. Because how could he not?

His followers grow by the thousands per day, but he didn't have to go through the list to check. He's already scrolled down up to the very first photo on Win's IG a earlier this morning, as his subtle attempt at getting to know him through photos and captions, and he was pleasantly surprised to see the button change from 'Follow' to 'Follow back'.

"There," Bright finally tapped the button he's been itching to touch, and Win's phone chimed with the notification. He caught him grinning down at his phone, like an excited kid who got the highest score in an online game.

_That damn smile again._

Bright swore he felt his heart skip a beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow ok this one took too long, sorry! next chapter will be day one of tour!! i'm excited <3
> 
> (also, idk, i'm getting bothered by the inconsistency in my tenses so i might be switching to present tense for the next chapter! i hope this won't affect your reading experience too much lol)


	8. don't be an idiot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point Bright is sure: he doesn't like this Drake guy. "He has a non-compete clause in his contract," Bright quickly replies before Win can even answer. "Sorry."
> 
> Not really sorry, asshole.
> 
> Win looks at him as if to say, "I do?" to which the other boy replied with an annoyed irritated look that couldn't have meant anything other than, "Don't be an idiot."

"I still can't believe you're working with Bright." Khao pulls over to the curb where a group of fans are standing by. "And that you're actually going on a tour with him."

Win just shakes his head and disengages the seatbelt. He feels bad for leaving Khao in the dark about the whole Bright situation, but he hasn't processed it enough to actually talk about it in detail. Even to Pleum and JJ. And with only an hour of sleep and two shots of espresso to fuel him until he gets inside the plane, he'd like to avoid any conversation that involves him, Bright, their surprising partnership ( _friendship?_ ), and the many different emotions that come with it. He's not sure if he can call him his friend yet. But after what went down during their filming at his apartment, things have definitely eased up between them. They're comfortable enough to call each other names, tease each other relentlessly, and even talk casually over LINE.

_Yeah, that's exactly what friends do._

"It's just work," Win reasons. "I could use the distraction."

"From?" Khao raises his eyebrows at this, hoping to get more info from his friend who hasn't really opened up yet what happened to him recently.

"Life," Win replies. _Life_. As if he's about to set out into an alternate universe where he's neither heartbroken nor anxious about spending the next three months with a boy who makes him feel all sorts of warm inside. 

They both get out of the car and start unloading Win's luggage from the trunk. This is what kept him up all night: packing his bags last-minute, making sure he brings enough to last him the whole tour. As if laundry is a foreign concept to him. While Bright only brought 1 bag, Win brought 3. And he's not even a bit ashamed about it, much to Khao's amusement.

Another car pulls up behind them, and the fans rush over not too long after. 

"Looks like your partner is here," Khao motions to the guy stepping out of the front seat. "You better get going."

Win looks over and true enough, Bright Vachirawit himself has arrived. And his fans who have been waiting to see him off can't get enough of him. He steps out of the passenger's seat and greets the crowd.

Green curdoruy jacket, dark sunglasses on, a Starbucks drink in hand.

 _How does he look like that at 8 AM?_ Win can almost understand why those girls are shrieking. Other artists who are going on tour with them also started pulling up behind, but Bright's fans stayed put. 

"Okay, I have to go," Win bids his friend goodbye. "Don't have too much fun without me!"

Khao pats his back. "It's not much fun without you, bro. Enjoy the tour."

Win nods, feeling a bit more positive now. 

"I mean it," Khao insists. "Enjoy. Let loose. You better be smiling again when you get back."

 _I hope so too_ , Win thinks to himself.

He starts to walk towards the entrance and even with his big frame, he was obviously struggling with all bags. _Maybe this was a bad idea_. 

"You do know you've got too much baggage, right?"

The familiar voice catches up to him from behind. He didn't have to turn back to know who it is, but he does anyway. And there he was, his _friend_ , all unnervingly handsome and unbothered. "For the trip or for life?"

"I don't know," Bright replies nonchalantly, taking a sip from his coffee. "You tell me."

"Don't want to." Win adjusts the strap of his duffel bag on his shoulder and they continue walking. 

"Suit yourself."

"Don't come to me when you realize you're out of clothes." Win squints at Bright, who won't even hide his amusement. 

"Are we even the same s—,"

" **Bright!** "

A deep voice cuts him off and they both look back to see who it is. A tall guy is running towards them, waving something. They wait for him to get close. _Is he a fan?_

Once he's literally in front of them, panting but still flashing a teethy smile, he hands over a camera to Bright. "You left this."

"Oh?" Bright takes it from his hand and puts it around his neck. "Thanks, Mike."

"That could've been the 10th camera you've lost, you know? What were you even rushing? Your flight is still — _oh, hello_!"

Win was hoping he wouldn't get noticed, but maybe the awkwardness he was feeling was way too strong. Mike is looking at him excitedly. He lifts a hand to wave at the guy and mumbles, "Hey."

"I'm Mike," he extends his hand, and Win hesitantly shakes it. "And you are?"

"That's Win," Bright interrupts, obviously unamused at Mike's attempt to get friendly with Win. "Jek got him to handle my socials."

Mike nods approvingly, looking at Win from head to toe, and then back at Bright. "Jek knows how to pick, huh?" He turns to Win. "Goodluck with him. He's a difficult one," he says, pointing at Bright with his thumb.

Win is quick to agree. "Oh, I know."

"Oh, you're ganging up on me now? I'll leave then." Bright starts to walk away but Mike grabs him by the arm. 

"See, he's moody." 

Bright slaps Mike's hand from his arm. 

"Alright, alright, jesus. I'll go now," Mike waves at them. "And Bright?"

"Yeah?" 

"Don't go punching strang—,"

Bright quickly covers Mike's mouth with his hand, pure panic apparent on his face. "Go! Leave! Bye!" 

* * *

It's been a long almost 6-hour travel, plus an additional 2 because of immigration, waiting for their checked in luggage, and travelling to the hotel. It was a good call for the management to let them travel a day before the first show in Seoul. Bright would be fucked if he had to do a show in this state — he could barely keep his eyes open on the way to the hotel. That, or maybe he just wanted an excuse to _accidentally_ lean into Win's shoulder. The latter didn't mind. He did that during the flight, too. At this point, and he knows it hasn't even been that long, but it seemed _normal_. Friends do that, right?

Win's hotel room was directly in front of Bright's. Jek's was a few doors down. And as for the other artists, they were on another floor. 

"Don't forget the dinner later," Jek calls out to Bright and Win. Her room is just a few doors down from theirs. "I owe you this one, Win. Sorry you'll have to take my place this time. Have to do admin stuff." She gives an encouraging smile at Win, who tried to smile back but it looked more like a grimace. He has no choice but to accept this dinner invitation. _But it's not an invitation if I'm forced to actually attend, is it?_

Win has been listening to artists' songs ever since he saw the lineup. It's not the genres he's used to listening to, but in the end he's become a fan. And while the idea of having dinner with them would've made him giddy with excitement a few nights ago, now he just wants an excuse not to go so he can sleep some more.

"It won't be that bad. They're cool guys," Bright tries to reassure him from across the hallway. The fact that their assigned rooms are right in front of each other seemed, at least to Bright, dangerous. But he didn't dare let this show. After all, he's the master of _Acting Cool™_. "I don't know the other one though. I haven't met him yet. Last-minute addition. He got on a different flight too so he's arriving late."

"The food better be good." Win taps his keycard onto the panel and pushes the door open upon the _beep_. 

"Need help?"

"It's fine." Win starts pushing his hefty suitcases inside, feeling Bright's gaze on him. "Just let me know if it's time to go?"

"Okay, I'll message you." Bright replies, pushing his door open and effortlessly kicking his luggage into the room. Win rolls his eyes at the boy's obvious attempt at showing off. "That's how easy it is when you have no excess baggage. Travel light, Metawin."

Win slams his door in response.

* * *

_D Gerrard_ seems like a cool guy. A bit intimdating at first, but will actually crack self-depraciating jokes when you least expect it. _Scrubb_ turns out to be a duo and they don't talk much. They went back to their rooms not long after they finished eating. Bright and Win were supposed to go back too, but the new artist caught them just they could leave the table. He basically pleaded them to accompany him for dinner. Needless to say, Bright is pissed. 

_Drake_ _Laedeke. Solo artist._

"Wait.. so what do you do exactly?"

Win is trying hard to ignore the glances this new boy has been throwing from across the table, and what's a better way to do that than by busying himself with food? But it doesn't seem to be working. Drake seems to be _really_ interested. For the sake of being polite, Win indulges.

"I, uhh... I basically just make sure Bright doesn't post anything embarrassing online," Win tries to joke through a mouthful, earning him shove from the annoyed boy beside him. 

"Then consider yourself out of a job, why don't you?" Bright retorts. He's been keeping silent this whole time, just speaking when mentioned, but he knows what Drake is doing. And he doesn't like it one bit. Ever since he joined the table, he seemed to have made it his personal mission to get Win's attention. This was his nth attempt. He decides to intervene this time. "My manager got him to handle the fan pages and help me create content."

Drake leans back into his chair and crosses his arm, eyes still fixated on Win. "That sounds cool. I think I need that, too. Can you handle mine?"

At this point Bright is sure: he doesn't like this Drake guy. "He has a non-compete clause in his contract," Bright quickly replies before Win can even answer. "Sorry."

 _Not really sorry, asshole_.

Win looks at him as if to say, _"I do?"_ to which the other boy replied with an annoyed irritated look that couldn't have meant anything other than, _"Don't be an idiot."_

Drake shrugs. If he can feel the tension in Bright's voice, he is good at hiding it. "Sucks. At least give me some tips next time. We'll be spending more time together in the next three months, anyway."

Win nervously shifts in his seat. He's not exactly sure why, but he knows something is off with Bright. "Yeah," he replies hesitantly. "Sure thing."

"Jek just messaged me," Bright holds his phone up for Win to see. "We have to do an IG live in 15 minutes, right?"

Win looks closer at his phone to look for the said message, but all he sees is a note that says, _let's get the fuck out of here. play along._

"Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot!" Win is terrible at faking it. But even if Drake would notice, Bright couldn't care less. He just really wants to leave and not hear any more of his attempt at hitting on Win. "Let's go?"

Drake didn't even have a chance to protest. Bright nods at him as he stands up from the table. "Catch you later, bro."

Win can only give him a tight-lipped smile.

* * *

"What did you do that for?" Win shoves Bright as the elevator transports them upwards. He'd be lying if he says he isn't a bit sorry for leaving Drake alone, but Bright's sudden change of mood isn't lost on him. They haven't spent that much time together, but he has somehow learned how to pick up even the subtle changes in his demeanors. 

"Wow," Bright scoffs. "How about a thank you for rescuing you from him?"

Win looks puzzled. "What?"

_Ding._

Bright just gives him a disbelieving stare and shakes his head as he steps outside.

"Wait," Win walks faster to catch up to him. "You do realize you really have to do an IG live, right?"

"Yeah, don't lock your door. I'll do it there."

"Why?"

Bright hesitates for a moment. "Light's busted in my room."

"And you didn't call the front desk about it?"

"No," he replies. "Maybe tomorrow." It's a lame excuse and he knows it, but at least the other boy didn't protest. At least not verbally. He just got another door slam from Win Metawin.

* * *

Bright prides himself on a few things, but most of all, his self-control. He knows exactly what he wants and what he has to do and _not_ do in order to get it. He also knows that being a celebrity would bring upon him a great deal of temptation, maybe even more than he intially expected, but he's been learning how to navigate the frustratingly complex environment. As far as he's concerned, he's doing great. No scandals, nasty rumors, or anything else that could hurt his career or image.

What he didn't expect though, was this storm of a person that got him second-guessing everything. Even making him lose his composure more times than he'd like.

 _Is that so bad?_ He stares at the door in front of him, trying to get a grip on how things are playing out between him and Win. To say that he's confused would be an understatement, and to say that this whole thing doesn't give him a sense of thrill would be a boldfaced lie. _I'm bound to lose control at some point, I'm only human. We're just friends. I was just looking out for him that night at the club, and I did the same earlier with Drake._

He pulls down the door handle and pushes it forward — _Did he just forget to lock or did he really leave it unlocked for me? —_ and nothing could've prepared him for what he saw. Sure, he's thought about it maybe once or twice ( _Is that weird?_ ), but to see it right in front of him, and in a moment neither of them expected, got him thinking twice whether to step inside or to retreat.

Win scrambles to grab a piece of shirt to hide his bare torso, still damp from the hot shower he just had. The towel around his waist is his only defense from Bright's equally startled stare from the doorway. 

"Ever heard of knocking?" Win attempts to break the silence, sensing that Bright is still just standing there. 

_Shit. Get it together. Act cool._ Bright brushes off the other boy's grievances on his intrusion, and looks for a spot to sit on. He brought his guitar with him, because he was in the mood to do a cover, so he looks for a good spot in the room. 

"Not a big deal," Bright replies, scanning the room. He decides on the bed, where he can place his phone on the night stand. _Yup, that would do._

"Whatever. Suit yourself." Win goes back inside the bathroom to finish changing. He's flustered, and he's sure that his cheeks are flaming hot, so he takes his time. He even splashes cold water on his face to cool it off. He's pretty confident with his body and he doesn't really mind flexing it, really, but more than Bright's sudden entrance, he was more concerned about how he reacted. It was for a brief moment, but he caught it: his eyes lingering on his upper body a second too long, the subtle jaw drop, the hitched breath. He tries to shake it off.

 _Why is he taking so long in there?_ Bright worries he may have overstepped this time. And just as he was about to think of ways to make it up to him, Win steps out of the bathroom — fully-clothed now. _Well, he doesn't look mad or anything._

Win is drying his hair with a towel and Bright would be lying if he'd say he didn't enjoy watching him do that. _He's just drying his hair, for fuck's sake._

"You haven't started yet?" Win says, scrolling through his phone. He sits on the edge of the table, his eyes not leaving his screen. "Your fans are already losing it on Twitter."

"About to start now, _boss_." 

It didn't take long for the number of viewers to reach 10K. Bright starts greeting them, in Thai, English, and he even managed a _Kumusta_ to his Filipino fans. Despite the barrage of messages and notifications, he surely didn't miss the one that said _winmetawin is watching_.

He stops himself from smiling at that one. But if there's one thing that both amuses and annoys him about this fans, it's the fact that they're way too observant. Suddenly they're asking about what it was about, if he has a girlfriend or boyfriend, if he's currently in love. He decides to indulge a bit.

 _"Are you inspired right now...,"_ he trails off, his fingers playing with the strings of his guitar. Bright gaze turns to Win, meeting his own inquisitive stare. He feels his stomach lurch forward. In moments like this, he can actually feel his self-control slipping away and lately, he just lets it. Fighting against is futile, especially that it often comes back in stronger waves. 

_Is he inspired?_

He's always been. He needs a good amount of inspiration to keep doing what he does, right? But lately it's been a different kind. And he admits, just to himself for now, that he hasn't felt this way for so long. But even then, what he felt back then didn't compare to this. This shit is different, and that's exactly what's scaring him. But, _what the hell_. 

Bright breaks eye contact with Win and looks back at his screen, at the fans who are dying to know.

_"Yes."_

And so their screens erupted with hearts, just as Win's stomach seemed to have been invaded by butterflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really slow updates because of work pls forgive meeee
> 
> also, sorry drake stans pls don't kill me!!!


End file.
